Male Friendships Form One Way, Women's Relationships Another. Ought We Stop Trying to Push Men More Like Women?

It is healthy to talk. That's what men are often advised, by everyone from mental health campaigners to the partners they live with. These women are bemused by the typical male habit to pass an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet come home with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? How come they didn't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is managing the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often center on an intimate and encyclopaedic knowledge of each other's private feelings, this style of male intimacy—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can look strangely hollow and sad. No wonder, one might think, that more than 25% of British men report having no close friends; that male loneliness is endemic; that many refuse to visit a doctor until seriously ill; that male suicide rates consistently exceed female ones; and that countless middle-aged men, in particular, appear permanently angry for unspoken reasons. Suppressing everything up benefits no one.

Rethinking the Value of Quiet Companionship

Yet, according to anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this view may sell short the strengths of the strong and silent friendship. Professor Yarrow, from Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was impressed with the closeness developed among these predominantly older men. His four-year study has been distilled into a paper contending that, particularly for men brought up in an era of the stiff upper lip, the value of friendships centered on shared activities—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underappreciated.

This quiet model of friendship "isn't bad or anachronistic, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem disconcertingly similar to how toddlers play—next to each other rather than engaging with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks value. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the company of others who likewise value less talk.

Beyond Words: The Unspoken Dialect of Concern

Thankfully, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is harmful, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he highlights that touchy-feely talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be happening beneath the surface of apparently reticent friendships. Could he be right?

As a woman's viewpoint, I'm obviously no expert on male-to-male dialogue. But professional experience suggests that while men may be more reluctant initially to discuss personal matters, once they begin, they can be remarkably candid. A lack of visible emotion should not be confused with a absence of feeling altogether.

Additionally, while modern men raised in a more expressive culture may be better at voicing feelings, older men are far from incapable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as acceptable "political opinions" or "team allegiance," and many men will readily express frustration, hope, disappointment, or pride endlessly.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway enthusiasts is that, despite their aversion of discussing feelings, they still found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like concern and affection. When an older volunteer was absent and later returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were concerned. However, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't ask what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, told jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other much as female friends would, except without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Does Bonding Require Words?

It's not the ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the true therapeutic value of friendship—what that combats loneliness and low mood—is fundamentally the awareness that someone is there enough to walk through life's difficulties with you, must that invariably be articulated with words?

The debate persists. Perhaps the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied forms of friendship carry equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of various individuals in their own powerful way.